Chapter 77

Immediately sirens, screams, and shouting filled the air. Daniel heard someone on a bullhorn shouting at everyone to get back. He heard the whirl of a helicopter—probably a news team or maybe police, Daniel wasn’t sure and didn’t bother looking up to check. Instead, he concentrated on Clark holding him and walked toward the nearest cruiser.

* * * *

Clark managed to get Daniel halfway to the police car before a looming presence flanked them on the right.

“Clark,” said Isaac Whitaker, the chief of police. He stood two inches taller than Clark, had a shiny, shaved head, scars on one cheek from a fight with a petty thief who’d been too good with a switchblade, and carried himself like a moving mountain that would not be deterred by anything from weather to wailing women.

“Whitaker,” Clark replied, still moving and keeping his focus on Daniel.

“Is this the man?” the chief asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Does he need medical attention?”

“No, sir.”

“He terminated the madman?”